


Peachblossoms

by The_Voidfish_Duet



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: But no canon characters yet, Habit gets punched by a child, M/M, Mentions of cannibalism. This is ONLY in one chapter, My new oc: become babysitter, Soon :-), Trencil wants his sun buddy, and is just How It Be for the infected, habit also finds a child in the trash, habit delivers, heavily implied death, infected kamal just wants snuggles, not described more than a thought, peachblossom au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-09-01 18:49:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 9,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20262829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Voidfish_Duet/pseuds/The_Voidfish_Duet
Summary: This is a bunch of little oneshots I have for the sfm peachblossom au me and some friends have been planning on discord. A quick summary of the au is that it's an apocalypse type situation, but instead of zombies, people are getting infected with a bacteria that allows flowers to grow on and within you. Dr Habit knows how to remove the flowers and defeat the infection- even if those infected don't want their flowers taken away.





	1. Incomprehensible

**Author's Note:**

> This first one is short! As a note for what's happening- the infection isn't always external.

Questionette stared down at the paper with shaky hands, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She looked up at Parsley, who watched on in concern.

Nobody could understand her. Not her words, and not her writing. 

A sob wracked her shoulders as she clutched the paper close to her chest, babbling out words that not even she could understand. 

Help me, please, she tried to say. I don't know what's wrong with me, just please. Please help me. Her mouth wouldn't form the words, prompting her to just cry harder. 

A dull ache formed in her chest. That ache turned to a tickle in her throat. Questionette gagged suddenly, coughing and reaching for her clogged throat. 

Two hydrangea petals fluttered out of her mouth, drifting down to the ground, violet and blue. Questionette stared at the petals before looking up to Parsley. Please.

Parsley took a step back, eyes widening. How had they missed it? He took in Questionette's face- her faintly paled cheeks and yellowed eyes. She was infected, and nobody had ever even realized it.

Guilt welled up in his chest. "I'm so sorry.."


	2. Putunia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eeee

Boris had assumed the house to be empty the first time he passed. Then he saw her.

The silhouette of a little kid in the second story window. They ducked away when he turned, but he still saw them. Hastily, Boris made his way to the door, testing the handle. 

It swung open. At just a glance, he could tell that no adult had been there for some time. Cautiously, Boris entered and approached the stairs.

Arriving on the second floor, he glanced around. Only one door was closed. They had to be in there. 

Opening the door, Boris stepped inside. It was completely silent. Stopping in the middle of the room, he gazed around-

"KA-POW!!!"

Boris let out a yelp as a little figure went barreling into his stomach. She punched and kicked at his legs, face twisted into a look of determination and slight fear. 

Gently, he pushed her away. "There is no need for violence," he told her, tutting softly. The just narrowed her eyes, backing up but remaining aggressive.

Now that he could get a good look at her, Boris felt something in his heart break. Seeing an adult with peachblossom was hard enough, but children were even harder to look at when they had it. 

"Why are you here?" She asked. "If you're here for my flowers, you can't get them! They're my power!!" 

Boris quickly put his hands up in a submissive gesture before the girl began her assault again. "Do not worry! I am not here for your flowers, look-" with a bit of difficulty, Boris swept his hair to the side and turned his head to show the nape of his neck. Three tooth lilies sprouted from the skin. 

"I am like you," Boris assured her. She stared at the flowers, eyes wide. 

"You have super powers too??" She gasped after a moment, getting a laugh out of Boris. 

"Indeed I do," he trilled softly, reaching a hand out to her. "Will you come with me? I live in a place with many others like us. We can all be more happy there- together!"

The girl stared at Boris' hand for a moment before accepting, taking his hand. "Where is it?" She questioned, stepping a bit closer. 

"Not far," Boris replied, standing up. "Now lets go- hmm. What's your name?"

The girl pretty much ran past him to get to the stairs, pausing at the top to look at him. "I'm Putunia! And who are you?" She started on her way down the stairs without waiting for an answer. 

Boris quickly caught up with an amused smile, keeping pace with her. 

"I'm Dr. Habit," he told her, leading Putunia off in the direction of the Habitat. 

Silently, he swore that he would save her.


	3. Habit finds a little trash man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wylan is my oc and is a little trash man

Parsley stared down the alley at the boy, concern twinging in his gut. "Boris, over here." 

When Boris moved to peer down the alley alongside him, it didn't take him long to notice the signature yellow glint of eyes belonging to one who was infected. 

The boy was posed on all fours, mouth hanging open like an aggressive animal. One of his eyes was squinted, likely from the growth that was beginning to appear on his eyebrow, and a large bundle of snapdragons was blooming from his chest. 

Boris took a step forwards, and the boy hissed, shifting to hide behind a turned over trash can. His eye, wide and wild, flashed with fear at the realization of being cornered. 

"Back! Back!" He shrieked. "No!! Mine!" The boy clutched at the blooms on his chest, hissing again. 

Boris crouched down, holding a hand out submissively. "I am not here to take them," he soothed. "I am simply here to help!" He forced a smile onto his face, making it as genuine as possible. 

The boy narrowed his eyes, letting out a growling sound. Boris knew that yet again, just talking wasn't going to work. But it was always worth a try. 

"Look-" Boris unzipped his coat, placing a hand against his undershirt. The shirt was dimpled with the outline of lilies underneath. Boris turned his gaze back to the boy. 

He was slowly relaxing, gaze focused on the outlines of flowers. Slowly, he emerged from behind the trash can, crawling on all fours over to him.

Boris couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at the smell that came from the boy- he smelled of rotting trash. Considering that he was found here, though, it wasn't too surprising. 

"I'm Dr. Habit! Could you tell me your name?" Boris asked, zipping up his coat again. The boy stopped in front of him, leaning back a bit to look up at him. 

"Wylan," he replied simply, voice sounding rough from a lack of speaking. 

Boris nodded, examining the snapdragons. "Your flowers are very pretty," he told Wylan, getting a happy little hum from him. "Say, would you like to come with me? I run a place called the Habitat! I can help make you happy-" he glanced around at the trash littering the alleyway, likely from Wylan digging around in it, "and keep you healthy!"

Boris wasn't quite expecting to be lunged at. Wylan gripped onto the man, happy little chitters coming from him. Not quite willing to pry him off, Boris just stood up and held the boy in his arms. 

Parsley grimaced slightly at the smell as Boris carried Wylan out of the alleyway. "Are we good to go?"

And with a nod from Boris, the trio were on their way back.


	4. yo they gay bro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kamal/Boris/Parsley is so very good and I will go down with this opinion

"Sssssoooo…. Arrrre yooouuuu guyssss datiiiiing?" 

Boris was, admittedly, a bit startled. He had never really thought much about his relationship with Parsley or Kamal. But thinking back- and to right now, having just moved away from kissing Kamal on the cheek- he could pick up on quite a few reasons why one might think that.

And he could realize that he had fallen stupid hard, and didn't even notice.

\---

Boris walked into the Habitat, weighed down by two bags of supplies. He handed them off to Wallus to sort before turning to get back to his room. What he currently really, really needed was a nap. 

Before he could step inside, though, he was interrupted. Kamal quickly moved over, capturing him in a tight hug with a soft, content little sound. 

"I missed you, doc," he mumbled. "It's been so long since I've seen you….."

"Kamal, it's been two hours," Boris replied with a soft sigh, wrapping an arm around him regardless. 

"Still too long.." Kamal nuzzled his face against Boris' coat, a content little sigh coming from him. 

Boris opened the door to his room with an amused shake of his head. "Are you going back to your room or bunking with me?" He asked, already knowing the answer. When Kamal just hugged onto him tighter, he lifted the shorter man up into his arms and carried him inside. 

Considering the fact that Kamal absolutely refused to release Boris from his grasp, he had to kick off his shoes and shrug off his coat while laying in bed. Kamal let out a few grumbles at all the shifting, but promptly settled down when Boris wrapped his arms around him and held him close. 

Kamal's eyes shut and he nuzzled his face up against Boris' neck, breathing out a soft, happy sigh once he finally got settled.

Boris smiled softly at that, eyes falling shut. He always slept easier with someone at his side. 

\---

Parsley stared down at his hands, barely even willing to touch the water that Kamal had set in front of him.

"You need to drink."

Parsley shook his head, ignoring how painful his throat felt. "No."

Sadly for him, Kamal wasn't just about to give up. "You need it." Kamal kneeled down in front of him, bringing the glass of water up to Parsley's lips. 

Parsley nearly knocked it away, but paused when he got an uncharacteristically stern look from Kamal. 

Long story short, he drank that water. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Parsley looked to the side. "Will you leave now?" He asked, nearly wincing at how weak his voice sounded. Pathetic. I should have been in his place. He-

Parsley didn't realize that tears were dribbling down his face until he felt them be wiped away. He drew in a loud, shuddering breath, before a sob ripped it's way from his throat. He curled up again. Fucking. Pathetic. 

Kamal kneeled down beside Parsley, wrapping his arms around him with a soft, sad coo. He rubbed his back, holding the other man close. Parsley clung to him, sobbing against his shoulder. 

Kamal pressed a kiss to Parsley's temple, letting out a soft shhhh…

"Everything will be alright. I promise."

\---

"Boris?" Parsley called as he walked into the office. There was no response. A frown grew on Parsley's face as he stepped further into the office. 

There he was, slumped over at his desk. Parsley walked over to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Boris?"

A soft, tired groan came from Boris as he slowly lifted his head. Parsley took a moment to take it all in- Boris' messy hair, the dark circles under his eyes, his weary expression…

"Come on," Parsley said, ushering Boris over to his bed. The other man barely let out a complaint other than a soft whine as he settled himself down in bed. 

Tucking him in, Parsley leaned to press a light, quick kiss to Boris' forehead. "If I come back and you're up, I'm suing you," he threatened halfheartedly, getting a tiny smile from Boris. 

"Thank you," he mumbled as Parsley turned to leave, curling up further. 

Parsley glanced back at him from the doorway, a tiny smile appearing on his face. "Just get some sleep," he replied, closing the door quietly behind him.

\---

"..... maybe."


	5. I nearly made him have a crisis but felt bad

Walking past the infected was always the hardest part of going out to gather supplies. Boris couldn't help but to spare a glance at the large mass of flowers ahead of him. 

The only sign that there was even a living person beneath there was their hand, blossoms starting to form on the back of it. Their fingers occasionally tapped the pavement, as if typing on a keyboard. 

Boris paused, turning to stare. He knew he couldn't help them, they were too far gone. Briefly he considered finding something to put them out of their misery, but he quickly shoved the thought aside. 

He wouldn't put them out of their misery. He knew they were happy in that state, as fucked as it was. If anything, he'd only be making onlookers like himself feel a bit better. Maybe. 

Quickening his pace, he stepped past them. His gaze looked away from the ground. 

\---

Food and medical supplies. That's all he needed and he knew it. Food and medical supplies. 

Boris found himself browsing the toy aisle regardless. The kids needed birthday gifts. And now was a good opportunity to get them.

In went toys for the kids. Boris thankfully found a Masked Driver figure for Putunia- everything else was mostly just a guess at what they'd like.

Boris fit one last can of food into the bag before leaving, a small smile on his face. At least he knew he could bring someone happiness.


	6. kamal wants cuddles

Boris opening his door late at night to see Kamal was becoming less and less unusual. And today, the problem was that Kamal had tripped. 

Boris ushered the sniffling man inside with a soft, pitying coo, closing the door to his office behind him. He wasn't surprised that Kamal had almost instantly latched onto him, whining.

"I fell," he mumbled, holding onto Boris tightly. "Some petals fell from my flowers- I hurt them, and-"

Boris shushed Kamal, running his fingers through his hair. "Your flowers are still beautiful!" He assured him, trying to keep his tone genuine.

Truth be told, he hated complementing the flowers. Don't get him wrong, he still liked flowers- but these were barely even flowers. They were just killers in disguise as something pretty. 

Either way, he pulled away from the hug to lightly brush his fingers over Kamal's flowers. "See? Very very pretty. The prettiest flowers in the whole Habitat."

Kamal hugged onto Boris' arm, staring up at him. "You mean it?" He asked softly.

No. "Yes," Boris replied, smiling at him. "I promise. You should be getting back to your room." He had work to do. But Kamal relented. 

"No," he mumbled, moving to hug onto Boris tightly. "Staying."

Boris glanced over at his desk, staring at the unfinished notes. He nearly denied it until he noticed Kamal's expression- he was silently begging for him to let him stay. 

Well, he couldn't just say no to that. With a soft sigh, Boris nodded. "Fine. Just let me get ready."

When Boris laid down in his bed, Kamal started seeking him out almost instantly. He hugged onto him, letting out a soft sound of content. 

Kamal fell asleep fast, but Boris remained awake, hugging the infected man a bit closer to himself. 

He couldn't stop thinking about Kamal's flowers. How he would act when Boris removed them. Closing his eyes, he tried to stop thinking about it.

That would only be important when the time came.


	7. More oc stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woop here we go

All Wylan could register was a bright, burning pain. A scream ripped from his throat as the stem finally snapped, the flower coming free. 

She was taking his flowers away. Wylan knew that he loved her, yes, but he had to go. Nothing would take his pretty flowers away.

"Wylan? Wylan!" His mother tried grabbing for him. "Wylan, baby, come back!"

But he was gone, sprinting out the door. Half running, half tripping down the stairs, he made it out of the apartment. He needed to run. He needed to hide. He would be safe. 

Wylan awoke with a little gasp, tears running down his cheeks. He missed her, he missed her so much, but he barely remembered who she was. It was hard to remember much before the flowers.

He crawled on all fours out of the room, making his way towards Boris' room. When he arrived, he knocked and waited, sitting down. 

Boris seemed exhausted when he cracked open the door, but a look of concern still appeared on his face at the sight of tears. Reaching down, he lifted Wylan up into his arms. "What's wrong?"

Wylan wiped at his eyes with a little hiccup, screwing his eyes shut. "Miss her," he huffed out, clinging onto Boris. He knew that he should remember who that woman was. But his mind was so foggy…

Boris sat in his bed, rubbing Wylan's back as he cried against him. By the time he stopped crying, he had fallen asleep against Boris. 

\---

Wylan rubbed at his sore eyes sleepily as he awoke, yawning, before burying his face further against whatever he was hugging. 

He blinked his eyes- well, eye, for the most part- open and shifted back slightly. It was pabit. Wylan stared at the puppet for a moment, blinking a bit, before hugging it close again and burying his face against it's fake coat ruff. 

For being fake, it was very, very soft.


	8. Boris runs away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some backstory for why dr habit got to the habitat. Warning for heavily implied death for this one

Boris sat on his head, face buried in his hands. A soft sob left him. Trying desperately to compose himself, he wiped at his cheeks. Seeing as the tears weren't stopping, he just gave up. 

He couldn't stay here. His own home wasn't safe. If anyone saw the flowers- he brought a hand up to his chest, lightly brushing against the lilies under his shirt- he would be killed. 

He had seen it earlier that day. He had just managed to look away before he heard the gunshot. Boris pushed the thought away, screwing his eyes shut.

He didn't want to cry harder.

The time for him to leave was approaching. He knew that if it was day, he would be stopped and questioned. At night, it would be less likely for people to see him. 

Boris pulled out a suitcase and started grabbing things he would need- clothes, food, bottles of water, toiletries… he paused, staring at his puppet. 

He didn't need it. He really didn't. But regardless, he slipped his puppet look-alike under his arm and grabbed his full suitcase. Peering out the window, he took in how dark it was. 

It was time.

Boris slipped on his coat, checked that he had his essentials once more, and stepped out the door. He tried not to look too hurried, settling for a stroll.

After what felt like hours, Boris reached the outskirts of town. A smile appeared on his face. 

"Hey, what are you doing out here?" Footsteps approached. Boris' breath caught in his throat, and barely a thought went through his mind before he was running.

"Hey!" sounded the voice again, yelling this time. What sounded to be a walking pace turned into that of a run behind him.

Boris wasn't about to be caught. He knew what was going to happen. Veering off towards the forest, he sprinted into the undergrowth. Sticks pulled and tugged at his hair and coat but he continued on, eyes squinted to avoid being hit in the eye.

Eventually, Boris had to slow down. He panted, trying desperately to catch his breath.

He glanced down at himself. No wounds. He still had pabbit and the suitcase. 

Closing his eyes, Boris collapsed, curling up on the forest floor. He barely even registered his surroundings, just grabbed his hair and pulled. 

He could have died. The thought of ending up like that poor kid- he quickly pushed the thought of them away.

Another sob escaped him as he rolled onto his back, eyes soon squinting open to look up at the stars. 

They were incredibly blurry- he blinked and wiped at his eyes, pulling in a stuttering breath, before he could finally make them out.

So many pretty stars, all twinkling down at him. Boris hugged pabbit against his chest, glad that he had decided to take him. He closed his eyes once more, trying to ease his sobs. 

Eventually he finally managed to fall asleep, curled up beneath the light of the moon.


	9. *villager sounds*

One moment, Jimothan was looking down at a recipe. And the next, as he turned to look for the ingredients on the list- well, anything that looked like them- he came face to face with a mass of flowers. 

A surprised exhale left the bartender as he took a step back, staring into the barely visible eye of the person. With a slight glance down, he could see that the shirt had been mostly removed, exposing even more flowers.

So, so many flowers. Way too many flowers. Absentmindedly Jimothan wondered if he would ever manage to see him walk out of surgery, but pushed the thought away with a slight, very much restrained grimace. 

What kicked Jimothan into moving was the realization that he- especially with so many flowers- could contaminate the kitchen. "Uh.. hey there…." He stepped forwards, walking past the man, hoping that he would follow in his footsteps. 

He didn't. He just followed Jimothan with his gaze, remaining silent. 

He needed to try something else. He stepped forwards. "You-"

He quickly stopped as the man murmured something, taking a shaky step forwards. Well, nevermind, probably. "What was that?" Jimothan asked, only to be met with more illegible, slurred mumbling. 

Jimothan deadass didn't know how to respond. Or what to start with. How in the goddamn was he going to get this walking biohazard of a man out of his kitchen.

Food? Well, that was always iffy- he could dig some meat out of that freezer, but they weren't often hungry… plus, he wasn't sure if the man was even able to eat through that mass of flowers. 

… Sunlight. Now that- that may work. Slowly, carefully, trying to not appear as threatening to the flowers because god knows what would happen if the guy thought he was trying to hurt them, Jimothan reached out towards him. 

"Hey, uh… come on over here, will you? I'll bring you over into the sunlight, will that work for you?" 

That got him moving. The man stumbled forwards with a happy little murmur, shakily grabbing onto Jimothan's hand.

The man's hand was chilly, causing Jimothan to pause for a moment. But he slowly began to lead the infected man out, careful to not allow him to fall. It was a bit difficult when they got to the stairs, considering how disoriented he was- how had he even get down??- but, finally, they made it into the courtyard. 

"Here. How about you stay out here?" Jimothan moved to pull his hand away. 

But the man didn't let go, just tightening his grip on Jimothan's hand. Jimothan let out an awkward little chuckle, glancing to the side. "Hey, uh… I kind of need to get back there…"

The man looked over at Jimothan before pointing a shaky hand up at the sun, a soft croon sound coming from him.

"What?"

Instead of getting a response, he was tugged down as the man moved to lay down, sprawling himself on the ground.

Jimothan sat beside him, hand still stuck in his grip. He guessed this was just his life now. 

\---

Jimothan had returned to the lounge with no issues other than a possible forming sunburn and a desire to hold the man's hand again. He promptly ignored said desire. 

It had been three days, and Jimothan managed to not have a sunburn… and he also hadn't heard about the man, who he learned was named Trencil, in three days. 

That was probably also because he hadn't bothered to ask anyone about him. It's not like he was worried about him or anything. Definitely not. 

He scrubbed at the nonexistent spot on the glass harder. 

Well, speak of the devil and he shall come. Jimothan looked up as someone stumbled into the lounge. He didn't recognize them at first, with their bandaged face and shaved head. But with one look at the man's eye, as well as his getup, he quickly realized. 

A wave of relief hit him. The fact that Trencil had managed to live confused him, but it was overwhelmed by the relief of having someone survive the surgery. 

Trencil gazed around the lounge, promptly ignoring Tiff- when he noticed Jimothan he quickly approached, a sad whine building up in his throat. 

"Uh, hey- hey, hey, hey!" 

Jimothan stepped back as Trencil slid over the counter, then promptly skittered forwards as the man nearly fell. He supported Trencil until he was sturdy, frowning. 

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked, not unkindly.

All he got was a sob in response. Oh no…. Jimothan glanced at Tiff, who motioned at Trencil before turning away. He was on his own. 

Jimothan turned back to Trencil. "So… is it the flowers?"

Trencil nodded slowly, a sad murmur leaving him. "... flowers," he replied in an agreeing tone.

Jimothan nodded, starting to rub Trencil's back. "Yeah, maybe you're missing them, but it'll all turn out fine, yeah? You're still up and moving."

Trencil glowered at him before turning his gaze down to Jimothan's free hand. He reached over, hand shaky as ever, and gripped it in his own.

Ah. Jimothan flushed ever so slightly. "This old place is pretty much always open, you can come here whenever you need to," he mumbled softly. 

He really wasn't prepared for the hug, and not just emotionally. He breathed out a sharp breath of air, arms pinned at his sides as Trencil pretty much squeezed the life out of him. 

"Thanks," he wheezed out softly once released, steadying himself by placing a hand on the counter. "I, uh-"

He was interrupted by a murmur from Trencil as he stepped back. He exited from behind the bar using the actual exit, thankfully, and hobbled off. 

Jimothan watched, turning back to his glass. Turning back to polishing for no reason, he realized that he was left alone with his thoughts. 

\---

"Hey, uh, Pars.."

"... yeah?"

"How… how do you know if you're- if you're gay? I'm asking for a friend."


	10. and i oop

Sometimes Jimothan liked to think that he was sneaky about things, especially his feelings. But here he was, sitting in the bed of a recovering Trencil with Nat staring at him from the doorway. 

Her gaze flicked from Trencil- who, in his still delirious state, hadn't noticed Nat and was nuzzling his face against Jimothan's shoulder- to Jimothan, who had an arm around Trencil and was paused in his motion of replacing the other man's bandages. 

"I thought this was Kamal's job," she stated. "Or Dr. Habit's."

Jimothan cleared his throat awkwardly, not liking how nervous the subject already managed to make him. "Ah- Kamal sent me. He's busy." 

It wasn't a complete lie. Kamal is always busy, and he seemed pretty relieved when Jim asked to take over some of caring for Trencil.

Nat just rolled her eyes. "I guess," she replied, sending one more glance to her dad before promptly leaving the room.

Jimothan turned his attention back to Trencil, who had clearly gotten comfy, face pressed against the other man's shoulder. He let out a content murmur, eyes falling shut.

He flushed slightly, trying to think of a way to keep it on the downlow.

Meanwhile, Nat and Parsley were thinking up a plan to keep it quite the opposite.


	11. man i dont think you're supposed to bowl like that

Crossing paths with a bowling alley while out scavenging was just way too tempting. After sparing a glance at the other, Trencil approached the doors and pried them open. 

In they went. The bowling alley was dark and quiet, their footsteps faintly echoing as they walked. 

"Have you ever been bowling?" Jimothan asked, noting that most of the lanes still had all of their pins up. Plenty of bowling balls were well within reach too. Perfect.

"A few times, yes… it's never quite been my forte." Trencil picked up one of the bowling balls, not bothering to test its weight. "I certainly haven't with my hands being so shaky."

Jimothan nodded, picking up a bowling ball of choice before approaching one of the alleys. "But have you still got it?" 

"Hopefully," Trencil replied, choosing an alley at the very end. 

"Lets see what you've got, then," Jimothan replied, setting his bowling ball aside and turning to watch. 

It was a damn good thing Jimothan had set the bowling ball down, considering the fact that he probably would have dropped it. Trencil still had some effects from when he had peachblossom- the main one being that he occasionally didn't control his strength well. 

This became apparent when his bowling ball ended up flinging up at the ceiling, knocking panels loose and releasing a bunch of dust.

"Shit!" Trencil covered his mouth, censoring himself. Jimothan had jolted in surprise from the sudden racket, but that sure didn't stop him from losing his shit. 

He ended up covering his mouth for a different reason- he brought his shirt up over his nose to avoid breathing in dust. He let out an amused little wheeze before shaking his head. 

"Let's just move to the other side."

Trencil just nodded, face flushed in embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you try saying that trencil shouldnt be able to blush bc hes a vampire i have proof that he can *hands you a paper that says i do what i want*


	12. Kamal: become floral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this one is abt how Kamal got peachblossom ft. Boris at the end

Kamal stepped back from his door, examining his work. Locked and bolted. Perfect for keeping him safe.

But it was also unsettling. Something he should never, ever have needed. Swallowing thickly, he turned away and walked to the kitchen. Searching through, he pulled out a bag of chips, not bothering to look at the flavor. 

Sitting down at his couch, he turned on the tv. Sliding in some random movie he hadn't really looked at either, he sat back down on his couch. 

Popping open the bag of chips, he stared at the screen. Thirty minutes in, Kamal noticed something. 

His window was open. Not a single sound of humanity came from outside- not sirens, voices, or even a car. 

If he lived in a small town he may not have been concerned, but he lived in an apartment building within a pretty populated area right outside of a city. 

Anxiety built up in his chest from the silence. He had to close his window. 

Before he knew it, Kamal's chips were gone. He wasn't hungry, not really, but anxiety allowed him to grab another bag and eat through it. 

For a small moment, it helped. But he couldn't help but run the silence he had heard through his head. He had never heard it so silent, especially considering that it wasn't even 10 yet. 

Everyone really was preparing for the worst. He had seen it himself, with all of those empty shelves in the stores he had visited earlier today. Some people wandered with medical masks. 

Some people wandered with signs of the disease. 

Kamal closed his eyes, shuddering as he remembered the yellow, cloudy eyes of those who were infected.

Anxiety swirled in his gut as he stood up, walking towards the window. He peered outside, gazing around. 

Nothing, at first. Soon, though, someone appeared under the light of a streetlamp. Kamal nearly breathed out a soft sigh of relief, but when they looked up towards the sky, yellow eyes glinting in the light. 

Kamal quickly shut the curtains, backing away. He sat back down in his spot, beginning to register what was happening.

This was real. And as thoughts swirled faster and faster through his head, he knew that it was going to be a very, very long night. 

\---

Kamal woke up with a headache the next morning. Sleeping more was a must. He rubbed at his eyes, still painful and puffy from a night of crying. His main problem, though, was his raw throat.

He dragged himself to the kitchen, getting a glass of water and chugging it down. He grimaced slightly. There really was nothing like city water. 

The next few days were generally the same, though his sleep schedule never stayed the same. Sometimes he'd sleep ok. Sometimes he'd have nightmares and wake up far too early for any human being to reasonably be awake. Sometimes he'd have his weekly mental breakdown.

What did change was his water intake. He noticed that the next week, he was perfectly content with drinking three glasses of water in the morning and not eating anything for breakfast. 

His skin was itchy, but he figured that it was just dry. He hoped his lotion wouldn't run out any time soon.

A few days later, he realized that he didn't have to worry about that. He stared into the mirror, gaze directly on the small blooms forming on his chest. He lifted a hand to lightly cradle one of the yet to open flowers, smiling slightly. Beautiful. 

He never did notice that his eyes had become an unsettling yellow. 

He never figured out why something in the back of his head said something was terribly wrong either. 

Soon, the curtains over the windows came off. Why were they needed? All Kamal needed was to stretch out beneath the sunlight flooding through the window. 

He would leave exclusively to find meat- anything with protein had been eaten much quicker than anything else, though he still occasionally found the will to eat something sweet. And soon, to find water, as the water system of his apartment went down. 

He ate enough to keep him content in this state, never realizing that it was mostly just enough to keep the flowers healthy and him alive. Well, alive enough.

And despite the area he lived in, it seemed as if everyone had left. Despite the happy state that peachblossom had put him in, he felt quite lonely- there was nobody to talk to or to show his flowers to. Nobody to hug. 

Maybe it was because he never ventured much further than the store quite close to his apartment, but he never did wander further than that.

Regardless, he was doing well. To himself he was, at least. His pale face and reddish sclera? He didn't seem to notice them at all. All he paid attention to were his pretty, pretty flowers. He pretty much never wore a shirt- it was a lot easier to see them without it. 

And at the end of each day, he'd curl up in bed, humming softly to himself as he ran his fingers carefully over his flowers. Things were good. Things were very good.

\---

Things weren't looking very good. Boris drove towards where he remembered Kamal's apartment building being, glancing out the side windows occasionally. A few infected wandered the streets, but Boris was too focused on his objective to stop and help them or even linger. 

Kamal. His old assistant. 

He pulled up on the side of the street beside the building, stepping inside. Walking over to the stairwell, he momentarily worried about how he would get in, but the door was thankfully being held open by a makeshift door stopper- aka, a chair. 

It worked, he supposed. At least he didn't need to scrounge around for keys or anything. Would he even have needed to? Can you just walk into an apartment building without them? He didn't bother to check.

Room 217. Boris hoped he remembered the number right. He repeated it in his head over and over like if he stopped, the world would completely end. 

And there it was. The door was wedged open slightly, causing him to breathe out a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to break a door down today.

Boris paused when he saw the state of the room. It was dusty, very dusty, and the curtains laid on the floor beneath the window, having been haphazardly tugged down. Some things were knocked out of place. The window was wide open, allowing the moth that currently sat on the ceiling in.

The only thing that stopped him from giving up and turning around was the marks in the dust on the floor. Footsteps, as well as marks near the window showing that someone was laying down, likely in direct sunlight. The couch seemed pretty well used as well.

Dread welled up in the pit of Boris' stomach. 

Kamal was infected. He had to be. 

Boris stepped into the room, looking around. "Kamal?" He called, frowning slightly.

Scrabbling sounded from a to his left. A familiar face peered out from what he could now register as a bedroom. It took a few moments, but recognition soon glittered in Kamal's eyes. 

"Boriss!" Kamal cried, stumbling out of the room. Boris' breath caught in his throat. He looked terrible.

His hair was unkempt, both too long and unbrushed. His eyes had the signature appearance of those who had peachblossom, and the flowers that sprouted from his chest and left shoulder certainly confirmed it.

Kamal latched onto him, nuzzling his face into Boris' coat and hugging onto him tightly. Boris slowly wrapped his arms around Kamal. 

Kamal was saying something. Boris didn't register it. Earlier, he could see the man's ribs easily beneath the skin. He could feel Kamal's spine, so defined beneath his hand. He was so skinny. 

Ever so carefully, like Kamal was made of glass, Boris lifted him up into his arms. Kamal blinked up at him slowly, huddled close to the taller man. He had missed affection. 

"Where are we going?" He asked, rubbing his cheek along Boris' coat once more.

Boris glanced down at him, offering him a small, real enough looking smile. "You'll see," he told him, starting on his way down the stairs.

Kamal nodded, not pressing further. He just closed his eyes, content.


	13. Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is actually unfinished- it ends in an ok spot so im posting it regardless but I actually wsnted to go on with this, I just ran out of motivation.

Slow days were a thing that were cherished by Kamal. He stared out the window, watching the rain hammer down as the wind whistled past the building. There was certainly a reason that it was slow.

There was one reason to appreciate Ronbo. He had herded all of the Carlas inside as soon as he saw one raindrop.

A soft sigh left him as he moved to sit on the bed. Thunder rumbled from a distance, only getting louder as the storm blew over. 

A hand reached over, lightly tugging on Kamal's arm. "Will you get into bed already?" Parsley mumbled out, already snuggled up under the blankets. 

Kamal glanced up towards the door. Parsley let out a soft sigh. 

"He'll come soon," Parsley assured him.

"Are you sure?"

"He's probably just checking up on someone... He'll be in soon."

Kamal shook his head, but shifted to lay down regardless. Parsley lifted the covers to let him in, holding him close once Kamal got settled.

Kamal let out a soft, content sigh as he wrapped his arms around Parsley in return, eyes falling shut. 

Parsley pressed a kiss to Kamal's forehead, a small smile forming on his face. He could already feel himself growing drowsy- the muted sounds of the storm definitely helped with that. 

The two of them laid like that for some time, shifting only to show each other affection- little kisses here, a nuzzle there.

Soon, the door creaked open. Neither Parsley or Kamal turned to look, already knowing who it was.

Rustling came from Boris as he shed off his coat and shirt, getting into his pajamas. Parsley lifted the blanket again to let him under.

Boris took his place behind Parsley, reaching an arm over him to pull both him and Kamal closer. Parsley shifted over to look at him. "Why so late?" He murmured.

Boris pressed a kiss to Parsley's cheek, sighing softly. "One of the patients," he replied. Despite the many possibilities of what could have been wrong with said patient, he wasn't pressed on to continue. It was a time for them to relax, not bring issues of work in.


	14. Hummingbirds and Butterflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one with Jimothan starts right after the first one I wrote with him

Nat watched her father from a distance as Dr. Habit prepared for bringing him in. She didn't step in to save the nervous looking man sitting beside Trencil, instead deciding to just see what would happen.

Jimothan stared straight ahead, really unsure about what to do in this situation. What was he supposed to do? Sit and wait?

Either way, that is exactly what he did. At one point or another, he had figured that he should put some effort into this hand hold. Trencil seemed to appreciate it, letting out a soft murmur.

Something zipped by Jimothan's head when he finally started relaxing under the warm sun, startling him. "What the fuck-"

Oh. Jimothan stared at the hummingbird who approached the flowers on Trencil's face for some nectar, unmoving in fear that he'd startle the thing.

A second zipped over. The two little birds seemed mildly annoyed by each other, but they got their fill and left without conflict. 

Jimothan stared at where the birds had disappeared off to before looking back at Trencil. The man was letting out soft, happy murmurs, staring towards where the birds had gone as well. 

"Trencil?" The both of them looked towards the voice. Boris. He offered the infected man a soft smile. "Would you come with me please?"

Trencil let out a soft hum. He looked to Jimothan, giving his hand a little squeeze- Jim tried desperately to avoid making a pained face- before shakily standing up. 

Boris led Trencil off, helping to support him as he walked, leaving Jimothan to rub at his and watch them leave.

He hoped Trencil would survive the surgery.

\---

For the first time in about a million years, Parsley left his room. He knew he looked like shit. Did he care? Was he going to do anything about it? No. 

Honestly, he hadn't even wanted to come here. But Kamal had suggested that maybe hanging out with Boris for a bit would cheer him up, so….

He doubted it. But the elevator opened, and there he was. 

He stepped into the medical office, glancing around. "Boris?" He called. No response. Parsley frowned, continuing further into the place.

"Boris?"

"Here."

Parsley looked towards the voice. Outside, on the balcony, was Boris. He was laying shirtless- and he was swarmed with butterflies. 

He approached Boris, glancing over all of them. "How did they even find you here?"

"They just do."

"... can you move?"

Boris shook his head slowly, not wanting to disturb the butterflies. "No! It's illegal to wake them."

Parsley couldn't help but snort in amusement, settling himself down beside the other man. "How- how often does this happen?"

"Plenty. But! Usually not this many." Boris brought up a hand, carefully lifting one of the butterflies up from it's spot onto his finger. He held his hand out to Parsley. "Here! :-)"

Parsley stared at the butterfly, a bit bewildered. Boris rolled his eyes, taking Parsley's hand. "Here."

Boris allowed the butterfly to crawl onto Parsley's hand before settling himself down again. "Pretty, yes?"

Parsley stared down at the butterfly on his hand, silent for a few moments. "Very," he agreed softly after a bit. "Thank you."

Boris nodded, smiling at Parsley before letting his eyes fall shut again, just relaxing in the sun.

Parsley sat beside him for a while longer, only leaving once the butterfly had soared off.


	15. Oc town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is with my oc Wylan and my new oc Cyan

Kamal stood at the gate, staring at the Habitat's new visitor.

In her arms was a chicken- it was picking at one of the tomatoes growing from the woman's chest. Two more pecked the ground by her feet, clucking softly.

Drawing his gaze away from the chickens, he looked up at her face. He held back a grimace at the long since dried blood that came from under the flowers and vines covering her face. 

He bet they couldn't salvage that eye no matter how hard they tried. 

Seeing as the woman still seemed to be waiting patiently- or maybe not, he couldn't tell with how deadpanned her face was- he finally tried speaking up.

She beat him to it. 

"Thiss here the Habitat?" She asked, voice grating and slurred. She clearly hadn't talked in a while, and it was just made worse 

"Yes, it is-"

"Good." She pushed past Kamal, getting a little yelp from him. 

"Hey, hold on-"

"Wordss have it… that a friend coooouuld be here," she rasped, turning to look at Kamal. 

Kamal nodded slowly, smiling nervously. "Ok, but, uh- could you at least tell me your name? Maybe?"

"Cyan. Looking for… Wyyl. Little man. Likes chickens… nnd lizards."

"Wylan?" Kamal asked. "I'm sure we're thinking of the same one-"

"Wyylan, himm…. he's here….." Cyan looked at the chicken in her arms before setting her down. "Go onnn, Lady Plum… find him."

Kamal blinked at her, still a bit bewildered. Well, they had chickens now.

\---

Wylan stared down at the familiar chicken that was pacing at his feet, clucking softly. Crouching down, he lifted the friendly bird up into his arms. And with closer examination, he found that he remembered her.

Lady Plum pecked a bit at Wylan's clothes before settling down as he started petting her, a happy little trilling sound coming from her. 

Wylan glanced around before heading on his way, wanting to find whoever owned the familiar chicken. 

\---

Kamal was currently faced with a problem. One, Cyan was clearly not listening to him. Two, she looked like she could pick him up with minimal effort, and he didn't want to look like he was trying to harm her flowers. And three, he had no goddamn idea where Boris was. 

"Ma'am-"

"Wheress he?" Cyan turned to look at Kamal again, narrowing her eye. Kamal pursed his lips, glancing around the Habitat. 

"Somewhere- please, I just need you to cooperate, we can't have you just wandering around here." 

When Cyan didn't budge, Kamal tried again. "If you come with me, we can get someone to find him?" He offered. 

Cyan stared for a few moments more before nodding. Kamal breathed a sigh of relief, motioning for her to follow. "Come on. You can see him soon, I promise."

\---

It was a week later, and Cyan wished that she had never followed him. She stared up at the ceiling, a hand over the bandages that covered the remains of her left eye. 

Her flowers were gone. Everything just felt wrong. She closed her eye, sighing shakily.

The lock on the door clicked before it opened. Kamal peered inside. "Cyan?" He just got a groan in response- not even an attempt at glancing at him.

He shook his head. "You've got a visitor," he told her. 

That caught Cyan's attention. She glanced over, only to catch sight of a familiar face. 

"Wylan!" She cried, lurching up into a sitting position. She clambered out of bed, ignoring how lightheaded she felt. 

Wylan grinned at the sight of her, running forwards. "Cy!" 

Cyan grabbed onto Wylan, lifting him up with a delighted laugh. "Yyou're ok," she murmured, hugging him close. "You ssstopped comin over. Got worried." 

Wylan clung to her, smiling. "Dr. Habit found me," he replied. Looking over Cyan, he placed a hand on her bandages. "I had the flowers too. You'll get better soon."

Kamal smiled slightly, leaving the two to talk.

\---

Two and a half months passed, and Cyan was doing quite a bit better. She even had a new little section of the Habitat to herself, out of the sight of most others.

Standing up, she wiped the sweat from her forehead before setting the satchel of seeds aside. Quietly, she re-entered the Habitat.

A black and yellow blur made its way across the clearing to her. Wylan let out a laugh as he leapt at Cyan, reaching out for her. 

Cyan let him grab on, allowing him to climb up and get himself situated on her shoulders. "You havin' fun?" She asked, making sure that Wylan was steady before walking off towards the lounge. 

"Yeah! Trevor was showing me some of his games earlier. One of then was called dananr…"

Cyan listened to him talk as she peeled her dirty gloves off, shoving them into her pocket. Wylan had always liked to talk- when he came over before the whole peachblossom issue went down, he could ramble on for hours about anything and everything.

She never minded, even if he repeated things. 

Cyan leaned down beside one of the bar stools, allowing Wylan to climb onto it before settling down on one beside his. 

"-and apparently he dies I guess? But I don't really know, Trevor looked like he was going to cry so I didn't ask," Wylan finished, before turning to Jimothan. "Soda?"

"We're still out, kiddo," Jimothan replied, moving to grab the two some water. 

Wylan sighed, leaning on the counter. "There's never soda."

Cyan reached over, patting Wylan's back. "When they let me go out, I assure you, I'll get you as much soda as you want. Your favorite kind."

Despite Cyan's monotone voice, Wylan knew that she was being truthful. He grinned up at her. "Grape soda?"

"You betcha, little guy."


	16. *sad villager noises*

Jimothan had returned to the lounge with no issues other than a possible forming sunburn and a desire to hold the man's hand again. He promptly ignored said desire. 

It had been three days, and Jimothan managed to not have a sunburn… and he also hadn't heard about the man, who he learned was named Trencil, in three days. 

That was probably also because he hadn't bothered to ask anyone about him. It's not like he was worried about him or anything. Definitely not. 

He scrubbed at the nonexistent spot on the glass harder. 

Well, speak of the devil and he shall come. Jimothan looked up as someone stumbled into the lounge. He didn't recognize them at first, with their bandaged face and shaved head. But with one look at the man's eye, as well as his getup, he quickly realized. 

A wave of relief hit him. The fact that Trencil had managed to live confused him, but it was overwhelmed by the relief of having someone survive the surgery. 

Trencil gazed around the lounge, promptly ignoring Tiff- when he noticed Jimothan he quickly approached, a sad whine building up in his throat. 

"Uh, hey- hey, hey, hey!" 

Jimothan stepped back as Trencil slid over the counter, then promptly skittered forwards as the man nearly fell. He supported Trencil until he was sturdy, frowning. 

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked, not unkindly.

All he got was a sob in response. Oh no…. Jimothan glanced at Tiff, who motioned at Trencil before turning away. He was on his own. 

Jimothan turned back to Trencil. "So… is it the flowers?"

Trencil nodded slowly, a sad murmur leaving him. "... flowers," he replied in an agreeing tone.

Jimothan nodded, starting to rub Trencil's back. "Yeah, maybe you're missing them, but it'll all turn out fine, yeah? You're still up and moving."

Trencil glowered at him before turning his gaze down to Jimothan's free hand. He reached over, hand shaky as ever, and gripped it in his own.

Ah. Jimothan flushed ever so slightly. "This old place is pretty much always open, you can come here whenever you need to," he mumbled softly. 

He really wasn't prepared for the hug, and not just emotionally. He breathed out a sharp breath of air, arms pinned at his sides as Trencil pretty much squeezed the life out of him. 

"Thanks," he wheezed out softly once released, steadying himself by placing a hand on the counter. "I, uh-"

He was interrupted by a murmur from Trencil as he stepped back. He exited from behind the bar using the actual exit, thankfully, and hobbled off. 

Jimothan watched, turning back to his glass. Turning back to polishing for no reason, he realized that he was left alone with his thoughts. 

\---

"Hey, uh, Pars.."

"... yeah?"

"How… how do you know if you're- if you're gay? I'm asking for a friend."


	17. Kamal Meets Booboo the Clown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clown time  
So I dont hc Kamal as scared of clowns but id be scared too in that situation

Kamal slammed on the breaks, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn't hit them, did he? He really hoped that he didn't. Realistically, he knew that they likely just fell- there was no sound, nor any bump that would come from hitting someone…

Kamal's thoughts were interrupted when a hand landed on the hood of the car. Whoever he nearly hit pulled themselves up, turning to look straight at him.

A clown. A goddamn clown. The clown smiled at him, waving, eyes glinting yellow in the darkness. His outfit was torn, the ends of his sleeves pretty much in tatters, and his hair was a mess of grease and stuck in twigs. His smeared and scuffed up face paint didn't help his appearance at all. 

Kamal felt almost nauseous. Reaching up, he quickly and shakily felt around at his medical mask. It was on right. He shouldn't be worrying so much. Slowly, he reached for the handle. 

The clown seemed to perk up slightly once Kamal stepped outside, grinning. "Helloo! I'm Ronbo… hnk!" 

Kamal tried not to show how much he was shaking, though he knew that Ronbo probably wouldn't care. He suddenly became aware of his surroundings- the headlights of his car, one of which being blocked by the clown, was the only nearby source of light other than the thin, pale moon. The only sound was the breeze blowing through the leaves. 

Why did Ronbo come out here? How long has he been here?

"H-hey, Ronbo… uh, may I ask, where are you.. Heading?" Kamal asked, shifting his gaze slightly to the side. Staring into the darkness was just a touch better than looking at the forget-me-not covered, ragged clown.

A thoughtful little hum met him in response before Ronbo shrugged. “I heard about some place called the Habitat… the posters were so colorful and happy looking.” 

Convenient. “Well, I was actually heading there. M-maybe you could-” Kamal stumbled back a bit as Ronbo approached, grinning. 

“Have you been there before? Is it really a happy place?” Ronbo asked, tilting his head to the side.

Kamal nodded slowly, growing more nervous by how close Ronbo was. He swore, he had never been that scared of clowns- but he supposed that finding such a ragged looking one in the middle of the night in the countryside didn’t help. “Very happy,” he assured him. “And the man running the place has flowers like you. He’d be glad to bring you in.”

Thankfully, the conversation didn't last much longer. As Ronbo changed the subject to his own flowers, Kamal nodded along and ushered him into the car. Sliding back into the driver's seat, he didn't hesitate to haul ass out of there.

Kamal really needed to sleep after that.


	18. Chinkin plus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **PLEASE READ FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS**  
There is mentions of cannibalism and also not super descriptive beating someone to death with a shovel

Cyan peered out her open window from between the curtains, catching sight of the intruders. 

Two men, one with a baseball bat and both with backpacks. They were going through her garden, picking her food. 

Anger twinged in her gut, but she remained silent, breathing slow and steady. 

One spoke up. "I wonder if that guy really does know how to help with those flowers."

The other just sneered at him. "You and I both know it's bullshit. The Habitat is prolly just a bunch of bloomers tryin' to get others to infect."

A chuckle. "You right, you right." There was silence as they continued foraging. 

One looked up. "Why don't we get ourselves a chicken dinner too, eh?" He suggested, standing up. 

The other nodded, grinning slightly. "Baby'll like that." 

They approached Princess Plumee, who stared on cluelessly.

Cyan's chest tightened in fear before she set her jaw in anger, leaping into action. Slamming open the back door, she grabbed the shovel she kept on the porch. 

With an angry cry, she leapt down the stairs and ran straight at them. She caught one man in the skull with the side of the shovel as hard as possible before focusing on making the other drop as well. 

When they were on the ground, she brought the shovel up, staring down at the first one who had fallen.

The shovel was brought down on his head with a sickening crack. 

Didn't take long for her to be standing over two bloodied, beaten bodies. Dropping the shovel, she fell to her knees, grasping at one of the man's arms and raising it to her mouth. 

The note about the Habitat would be thought over later. For now, she was going to make sure this wouldn't go to waste. 


End file.
